Picking Up The Pieces
by ilikecrystals
Summary: Prelude to As I Am, You Understand but no Wincest. Dean gets angry and John helps him deal. This story contains SPANKING of an unconsenting male teenager by a male adult. If you don't like these kinds of stories, please don't read but if you do, review :


Title: Picking Up The Pieces Chapters 1/1  
Rating: Mature  
Author: ilikecrystals  
Scenario: John Spanks Dean  
Implement Used: Hand  
Other Characters: Bobby/Sam  
Summary: Prelude to As I Am, You Understand but **no Wincest**. Dean gets angry and John helps him deal.

**Author's Note/Standard Message:** This story contains **SPANKING** of an unconsenting male teenager by a male adult. If you don't like these kinds of stories, please don't read. Please point out any errors or crap writing so I can fix. I love constructive criticism and reviews so bring 'em! :D This is actually the first story I've written in a week or so and I thought my muse was dead so it may not be up to my normal standards and for that, I'm truly sorry.

This was written for Razzie2414 who wanted a 'defiant/rebellious Dean getting spanked' story. It was supposed to be a hot spanking fic but it turned into something different. Anyway, hope this fills you up, Raz. I tried :)

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"I don't know, Bobby. It's like he's a powder keg waiting to go off, I mean, he takes way too many chances, he's pissed off at the world and I know he's drinking when I'm not with them. I got back from taking out a coven of warlocks and he's passed out on the bed next to Sam, snoring up a storm, smelling like a fifth of whiskey. And I don't know what the hell to do about it."

Bobby eyes Dean stomping across the yard, snarling back at Sam to _hurry up, already! _as they make their way home from school and when Dean turns, catches Bobby's eye, he looks mean as hell, scowling fierce and it's not like him, not at all, to shout at Sam like that because he loves Sam more than life and is always taking care of him, protecting him.

Bobby nods, narrowing his eyes at the two figures walking towards them, "Hmmm, boy's wrestling with something, that's for sure. You tried talking to him about it?"

John's brows angle into a heavy frown, "Course I have but the kid's stubborn, just like me and when he decides he ain't gonna say something, nothing can get him to talk. He just gives me this look like I've lost my marbles and shrugs it off with an 'I don't know, sir.'…real polite and all but he's lying right to my face and I know it."

John pauses and then says softly, "I'm thinking maybe whatever it is that's eating at him, hurts too bad for him to put into words…and he's just not able, you know?"

Bobby shoves his hat up off his forehead to cool the sweat beading there in the late, Indian-summer sun and takes a deep swig of beer, squinting hard, searching for the answers in the warm heat of the day, "Damn, he looks like he wants to rip something apart."

John watches Dean, "Yeah…"

"Gotta get him talking or he's gonna snap soon. And then you're just gonna be picking up pieces."

John gives Bobby an exasperated look and grits out through his teeth, "I know that, Bobby, that's why I'm telling you about it, 'cause I need your help. I know what I gotta do, I just don't know how to accomplish the task, you know? How in hell am I supposed to get him to talk?"

A shrug lifts the other man's shoulders and he swallows another gulp of beer, "Do I look like the Dahli Lama to you, like I got any kind of answers here? You're the one who knows him best, John, you're his daddy, so figure something out! Find a way to reach him 'fore it's too late."

John nods, his brain working furiously.

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John hears the thud of flesh on flesh, the cry of pain and he knows that sound, it's the sound of a punch being delivered and fuck, are those boys fighting?

Bobby gives him a knowing look and kicks back to rest, letting John take care of business-

He's up and in the cabin fast, taking in the scene at a glance and he stops dead, stunned because he can't believe his goddamn eyes here-

Sam's on the floor, hand to a cheek and staring up at Dean, eyes full of unshed tears and Dean-

He's _looming_ over Sam, both fists clenched, like he's daring Sam to get up again so he can knock him down, punch him some more.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" John's words come out a shocked whisper.

Dean hears, though, and his shoulders jump up around his ears and he hunches into them, tense and stiff, whirling around and facing his father with fists on hips, rebelliousness in every muscle, a sneer twisting his mouth-

And the look in Dean's eyes, Christ-

So fucking angry, it's dark rage, black and ugly and he's just turned that shit onto Sam-

Sam, who adores his big brother, who is flinching now at Dean's sudden movement and cringing away, skittering into a corner, burying his head in his knees and hiding there-

John glances at him, sees his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs and feels the lick of his own anger stir deep in his belly.

"Bobby." His voice is low steel, hard and unforgiving.

Bobby appears at the doorway fast, the tone of John's voice alerting him to serious trouble, "Yeah?"

"I need you to take Sam out for a while. I need to talk with Dean alone."

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There's only silence now as the growl of the Impala drives Sam and Bobby away and Dean paces, circles and stomps, fists clenching tight and releasing, like a caged panther with no way out.

"Ok, Dean, you need to tell me what the hell just happened here."

Dean's eyes glitter with wrath and he shoots John a black look, turning on his heel and heading down the hall to his bedroom, throwing the words over his shoulder, "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Dean!"

And Dean stops, turns to look at John, 'I asked you a question, boy. Answer me."

"He pissed me off, Dad. He was whining about everything and I finally got sick of listening to it. I told him to shut the hell up, he didn't, so I made him."

John gapes at him, more surprised than angry and shakes his head in disbelief, "Dean, what-" He stops and starts again, "You get mad when I _spank _Sam, much less…no, _you _don't do this, _you_ don't hit your brother. You've never laid a hand on him before, not like this, you'd rather cut off your own arm than do that. So you wanna tell me what's really going on here? And what makes you think that this is even remotely ok?"

And Dean rubs a hand across the back of his neck, won't meet John's eyes now as his scowl etches deeper, voice a harsh growl, "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I want to go take a shower."

And he spins away, making it two more feet down the hall before John goes after him, slapping a hand onto Dean's bicep and hauling him back, twisting him around and grabbing onto the tense shoulders, giving the boy a firm shake.

"We're gonna talk about this, right the hell now, because your brother looks scared to death of you and that's not gonna happen, you're gonna tell me what's going on and then you're going to fix this-"

Suddenly, it's as if he's got a writhing snake under his hands because Dean comes up fast, skin thrumming with pent up rage and he catches John with his fist, just under the jaw, "Get your fucking hands off me!'

And John's head snaps back and he's swinging back around, mouth hanging open in shock because-

_Oh, fuck, no, Dean did not just do that-_

And he can handle the pain, he's had lots worse but this, disrespect, fucking downright defiance is what swarms the angry red flood into his vision, making his temper shudder and crack, and before he knows it, he's yanking Dean forward, dragging him down the hall, Dean kicking and hollering at him to _let him the fuck go_-

And hell, the little shit is _strong_ and wiry and it's all John can do to muscle him forward, into a bedroom, stopping to pry gripping hands off the walls because Dean's holding on tight, clinging with every ounce of strength to stop his forward momentum-

And he's _kicking,_ boots landing with heavy thuds on John's shins as he tries to get free of his father-

He yanks Dean's hands off the wood and half-drags, half-carries him the rest of the way into the bedroom, and he gets a hand on the back of Dean's head, slamming him hard, face first, into the wall and holding him there-

"Drop your pants, Dean." His voice is dead calm, quiet fury and Dean struggles harder, lifting his feet to kick at him, flailing behind with a hard fist and John grabs it, twists the arm up, stopping only when he gets a wail of pain and snarls out, "I said drop 'em"

"Lemme go!" Dean's words are muffled, mouth crushed against the wall, and John presses him further in, bearing down and gives a yank on the arm he's got hold of, wrenching a scream out of Dean's chest, "Shit, Dad, you're gonna break it!"

And John leans in close, huffing the words harsh into his son's ear, "Then you better unbuckle those fucking pants before I do!"

And Dean's breath is rattling in his lungs, wheezing against the wall and he hears the fumble of metal, the rasp of zipper and he looks down, watches Dean's other hand pushing the denim down frantically, the agony burning through his arm turning his stubborn son complacent, at least for a moment-

He hears the jeans whump to the floor and gives the arm another pull, "Shorts, too!"

And Dean writhes against the wall, alternating between furious cursing and painful whimpers as he frantically pushes on his underwear with one hand, twisting his hips to help get them off and finally he shoves them down, standing there, ass to the wind, swearing into the painted plaster-

John grates out, "Spread your legs and assume the position!"

"DAD, NO! I'm fucking sixteen! You can't-"

Another yank on the wrenched out bicep gets a scream of anguish, "OW! God damn it!" and before John can give another pull to get his point across, Dean gives in, braces himself against the wall and shifts his legs wide apart, closing his eyes, his face twisting in anger at his own submission.

And John lets go of the arm, keeping Dean's head smashed up against the wall as he raises his hand high, swinging it down in a mighty arc and with a crack, it lands across both bare ass cheeks, racking Dean into the wall with the force of it.

Dean gives a hiss through his teeth, trembling with reaction, and before he can draw in a breath, John lands another blast and another, palms smacking Dean's ass hard, so hard that John feels the fire shoot up his arm with each blow as he pounds first one cheek and then the other, hand prints sharply defined against the white flesh, turning the pale skin first faint pink and then blooming red-

Dean's holding himself tense, won't give John the satisfaction of crying out, even though John knows his son's backside must be starting to really burn if the color of his cherry red butt cheeks are any indication.

Dean's gasping now, gone from hissing with every smack to a whispered, "Ahhh" as John's hand cuts into him but he can feel the pressure building up in his son's body, the quaking stiff muscles, the ass cheeks that clench just before each thud of John's palm and the buck into the wall as the pain sears across and through-

John's gonna see this through, been a long time coming and maybe he hasn't been much of a father to Dean lately, figuring he's almost grown and doesn't need constant supervision anymore, but he's wrong, he's been damn neglecting his responsibilities and this situation is gonna be rectified right the fuck now.

The loud cracks fill the room, snapping through the air like cloth in a stiff breeze, John's hand never faltering, swinging up and crashing down, warming Dean's rear end up good and proper and Dean's starting to really feel it now, gasps becoming grunts as he braces himself against the wall with both hands, trying to maintain position-

His ass is pulling in now as he feels the wind that proceeds each slash and he's starting to buck his hips back and forth, trying to make it harder for John to land solid hits because glancing slaps hurt less-

When John misses his mark twice in a row, he loses patience and cuffs Dean around the neck, fingers closing tight and pulls down, spins him around so Dean's facing the ground and John's got him in a headlock, Dean's flaming red bottom is right at the perfect height to do some major correction therapy.

Dean beats a fist feebly at John's back but he's at the wrong angle to do much damage and when John lands a swat on his lower cheek, lifting Dean up and throwing him forward, the sound of it cracking through the air is like glass breaking and Dean lunges ahead, yelling out in rage, in agony-

"Ow! Fuck!"

John swings up his arm and brings it down hard, onto the other cheek and Dean hops up on his toes, dancing in pain and tries to struggle free but John's got a grip of iron around his head, holding him down-

"Son of a bitch, that _hurts!_"

John rears back and comes down again, hand hard as stone and he needs to keep this under control because the urge to beat Dean into unconsciousness is high on his list right now…

Just the look of Sam's face in his minds' eye fuels him, spurs him on and he wants to beat Dean bloody, until he's screaming for John to stop and until he fucking realizes just what he broke here today in his and Sam's relationship-

Sam, cowering away from his brother, holding a hand to his face in pain…_son of a bitch_!

And he feels his composure break and snap and suddenly, he's walloping the shit out of Dean's ass, not stopping between blows, just raining smacks down on his already beaten backside, punctuating each crack of flesh with words now-

"If you ever-" SMACK!

"Hit your brother again-" WHAP!

"I will beat your ass bloody!" SLAP!

"Do you understand me!" CRACK!

And Dean's writhing and twisting, hollering and yelling, peppering the air with curses and shouts, head snapping back with each strike, struggling to get free, throwing his hips back and forth and John feels the arm against his back, trying to push him away-

And John knows it's enough, more than enough but he can't, needs to fucking make Dean pay for hurting Sam-

Needs to break Dean-

The red anger in his mind swirls inside, blocking out sight and sound as the blood roars through and he's in rhythm now, hand numb and arm screaming in agony but he keeps going, striking hard and deep, wanting to cut through Dean's defenses, through his smart ass attitude and _reach_ him-

Find his son inside of that hard exterior, that stubborn set of jaw and those hooded eyes that won't let him the fuck in-

And as he reaches for his belt, _gonna break him if it's the last thing I do_, he feels Dean go limp under his hold, hears the hoarse cries, "Daddy, daddy, please, _stop_! Please!"

_Daddy?_

And Dean bursts into tears, sobbing frantically and his knees give out, dropping him like a stone and John has to release his grip around Dean's neck so he doesn't hang the poor kid-

John lowers Dean down to the ground gently, holding him as he cries, the thin body of his son spasming with deep aching sobs-

Dean's arms crawl up around John's neck and wrap so tight, he's practically choking his dad and John's struggling to loosen the grip so he can take in a breath-

"Dean-"

"Please, Daddy, no-no more! I'm sorry!" Dean's voice is shattered, ripping out of his throat with painful gasps and his face is buried in John's neck, wuffling out incoherent words, fat tears rolling down, wetting his father's skin-

"I'm sorry I hurt Sammy! I-God! I hurt Sammy! Shit!" And he's whooping in big gasps of air, trying to calm himself but he's guilt-stricken and horrified at what he's done-

"Shhh…Dean, it's all over now. And you won't do it again."

"No sir, no sir! Goddamn it!"

And then Dean draws back from him, searching his face in a panic, "W-where's Sam? Dad, I've got to find him, got to tell him-"

John's hands stroke down Dean's back, trying to soothe, "Later. Right now, I need to know what happened with you, why you did what you did."

Dean's breath hitches in his chest as his eyes slid away from his dad and down and he shrugs, shakes his head like he's ashamed, "Can't-"

John's hand closed over Dean's shoulder, giving a hard shake, "Oh, no you don't. Talk. Now."

Pulling in a shuddering breath, Dean's eyes flick back up to his dad's and cling there, "The girl I'm seeing…I went by her house a couple weeks ago, to pick her up for a date, and I…met her mom." And Dean's eyes fill with tears as he stares into his Dad's brown ones.

"And?"

"Christ, Dad, she looked so much like mom…like how I remember mom, that it just…I just couldn't take it, you know? I ran outta there and- It's just not the fuck fair that she's d-…I mean, that we don't have her…that me and Sammy. It's just not fucking fair!"

And the tears spill over, rolling down, plopping onto his hands and Dean looks down, pulls in another breath and says, voice breaking quietly, "I know life's not fair, I _know_ that and usually I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, doing what I have to but just _seeing_ her. I got so angry and I just wanted to rip something apart, tear something to pieces and…I tried to get rid of it, Dad, I really tried. I drank some of your booze, just to forget but it didn't help and Sam kept asking me about it and I didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to remind him that he never knew her-"

Dean's eyes meet his again, "And I didn't know how to-what to do. I just wanted Sam to stop asking and he wouldn't."

John puts a hand under Dean's chin and holds him there, "I can't bring her back, Dean."

Dean's face starts to break up, "I know but-"

And he collapses into his father, sobbing piteously, "I just want my mom!"

John holds onto him tight, lets him cry because that's all he can do for him, the only way he can help and he mutters soothing words, petting Dean's spiky hair until his racking sobs stop and his breath hitches, gasps and eventually quiets-

And Dean rests against him for a few more moments before he finally pushes away and rubs the wet from his face, sucking in calming breaths and looks up at his Dad, "Thanks. Guess I needed that."

John nods, "I think you needed all of it."

His son considers for a moment and then nods, "Actually, yeah, I think I did. I mean, my ass hurts like hell but I think it helped 'cause I don't feel so crazy mean anymore."

John clarifies for him, "Like you're not quite so frantic, right?"

Dean gives him a puzzled look, "Dad, how did you kno-"

And John cuts him off, "Because I felt the same way after your mom died, like I wanted to kill everything I saw."

"How'd you deal with it?"

"Like this. Bobby helped me out. Seems like it puts things into perspective, cleans the soul and lets you breathe. At least that's what it was like for me. I'd forgotten about it, actually but now I'm glad I did this, and that it helped you. If you ever get like this again, feel like you're on the edge of snapping, don't wait, ok? Just give me a sign and I'll know what to do. We'll do this again and you'll be better."

Dean blushes a little and nods, "Ok, Dad and…thanks."

John pushes him back, "Get dressed. You've got an apology to deliver."

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When Sam comes in, he glances over at Dean and circles wide around him but Dean steps up, halts him with a hand on his arm and says seriously, "Sammy, I'm so sorry."

Sam stares up, soft eyes searching Dean's face and crap, all Dean wants right now is for Sam to just forgive him-

"I'm sorry I hit you, it-Crap, I promise, Sam, it won't happen again…can you, can you just give me a chance, to make it up to you? I swear, Sammy, I swear, it won't ever-"

And Dean can't go on, face working because he's so fucking sad and sorry and he wouldn't blame Sam if he never forgave Dean, if he never wanted anything to do with Dean again-

Sam's hand is on his shoulder, urging him to look up and Dean does, catches Sam's eye and his brother is smiling, nodding, "Jeez, you're such a girl, Dean-"

And Dean's grinning back and he's shoving Sam's hand away, "No, Sammy, you're the only woman around here…but if you ever need to macho up, just let me know and I'll give you lessons…"

Sam is shaking his head, walking past him now, "Jerk."

Dean's eyes follow him, a surge of love flowing through that his brother is awesome, wonderful and he can never tell him that but he can still think it-

As he follows Sam to the kitchen, his ass throbs in pain and he knows he'll be eating standing up but it was worth it because he's better, normal again and he's so grateful to his father for loving him enough to not let him get away with it, for not letting him go-

Guess his dad does love him, after all.

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End file.
